


Fiddlestan oneshots

by trollsandtribulations



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Various AUs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4760900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollsandtribulations/pseuds/trollsandtribulations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of oneshots written for grunkle stan and old man mcgucket</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An outside perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so i wrote this one for Tuesday of fiddlestan week "an outside perspective" its kinda short but oh well

When Stan came down and said he needed Fiddleford’s help with something Ford just waved his hand and muttered acknowledgment without even looking up from the papers on his desk. It was only when he heard the door shut at the top of the stairs he glanced up and chuckled a bit. Did they honestly think they were being slick? Both his brother and his best friend had been acting differently lately. More cheerful but also like they had been hiding something and, _honestly_ , it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. It had been like this for over a month. Stan would come down at least once a week and would play it off like he needed Fidd’s help with dinner, or with jumping off his car battery, or whatever excuse popped into Stan’s head and then Fiddleford would return hours later looking slightly disheveled, red in the face, and grinning like a fool. It was almost as if they weren’t even _trying_ to be subtle about it.

Despite the fact that Ford knew the two were in a relationship, he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. Fiddleford might could handle him bringing it up (not without turning ten shades of red, that was for sure, but he could handle it), but Stanley….

Stanford worried a lot about his twin sometimes. The way he avoids emotional confrontation and tries to scam his way out of things was sure to get him in trouble someday. Plus when he does face his emotions it was usually destructive to himself or others. Ford shook the thought of Stan driving a hippie’s van over a cliff out of his head. That was a bad week for the both of them.

 At the end of the day, Ford was happy for the two and when they were ready to tell him he would make sure they knew that. In the meantime he would pretend to be oblivious.


	2. Morse Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:I use Morse code to talk to my friends in class but it turns out you know Morse code too and now you know that I think you have a cute butt (high school au)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun to write you have no idea

Stanley Pines plopped down in his usual desk with a sigh. He hated school in general, but this particular class was the worst of the worst. The teacher pissed him off, the work was stupid, _and there were absolutely no cute people in there to distract him from it._ Stanford sat down beside him and they talked idly as he took out his books. When the blond kid who Stan had never seen before walked in, Stan just stared at him. He was kinda cute; nothing like Stan had ever seen before. He glanced over at his brother to see what his reaction was, and nothing. Ford looked like he hadn’t even noticed the new kid. Irritated at his twin’s inattentiveness (which he honestly had no room to talk about), he smacked Ford’s arm with the back of his hand, before tapping out a message in Morse code.

.... --- .-.. -.-- / ..-. ..- -.-. -.- / ..-. --- .-. -.. / -.-. .... . -.-. -.- / --- ..- - / - .... . / -. . .-- / -.- .. -..

(Holy fuck, Ford, check out the new kid)

Stanford gave him a questioning look, and answered.

.-- .... .- - / .- -... --- ..- - / .... .. -- / ... - .- -.

(What about him?)

 

What the Pines twins didn’t know was that the person in question was listening to their conversation. He had found an empty seat in front of Stanford, and was doodling idly on his folder while eavesdropping on the two behind him. He thought about turning around and telling them that he know Morse code before they could say anything too hurtful while he was listening, but then thought better of it. The conversation behind him had barely started when the teacher came in and started the class. The tapping behind him stopped as she spoke. At first.

“Ok, class.” She started, “We have a new student today, so ….” She said gesturing to Fiddleford, “Would you like to come up here and introduce yourself?” At her request all the blood drained out of Fiddleford’s face. He gulped before easing out of the desk and walking towards the front of the room.

“H-Howdy, my name’s Fiddleford McGucket…” He drawled out, faintly aware the tapping had started again, but too nervous to bother translating. “A-and I’m from Alabama…. And, um, I reckon that’s ‘bout it.” He smiled nervously before walking back to his seat, sighing in relief. Once he was back in his seat and not the center of the class’s attention anymore, he could focus on translating the Morse code from the two behind him.

-.-- . .- .... / -... ..- - / -.. .. -.. / -.-- --- ..- / ... . . / .... .. ... / .- ... ... --..-- / ... - .- -. ..-. --- .-. -.. .-.-.- / -.-- --- ..- / .... .- ...- . / - --- / .- -.. -- .. - / .. - .----. ... / -. .. -.-. .

(Yeah, but did you see his ass, Stanford. You have to admit it's nice.)

At that point he really couldn’t take it anymore, Fiddleford’s face turned red and he turned around to look at the duo. He could not believe what he just heard, and his expression showed it. It didn’t take but a few seconds for the twins to realize he could understand their conversation.

“Shit.” The heavier one muttered, while the one with glasses looked as guilty as a child caught in the cookie jar. An abrupt rapping on the board brought their attention to the teacher, who shot them a glare and continued the lesson she’d been teaching. The rest of the class was spent with Fiddleford overly aware of the two behind him, and the twins exchanging nervous looks.

When the bell rang, the southern boy all but ran out the door. He only stopped when he rounded the corner of the hallway and could no longer see the classroom or the handsome boys that sat behind him. _Great,_ he thought bitterly, _now that class will be awkward and I will be anxious in there all year._

Just as he was about to walk towards his locker to switch his books, a firm hand grabbed his shoulder. Fiddleford turned on his heel to find the two from his last class. The string of words that ran through his head could make a sailor blush.

“Hey, nerd, figured since you knew what I thought of your ass, you should at least know my name.” He cracked a grin and said “I’m Stanley. Stanley Pines and that nerd is my brother-“

“Stanford.” The other interrupted him, stepping forward, sticking out his hand for a hand shake. Fiddleford grinned and welcomed the formal embrace.

“Fiddleford McGucket.” He replied. “Uh- I can’t help but notice that hand of yours” He pointed out. Stanford stuck his hands behind his back and his face turned slightly red.

“Ah, w-well, I-I …” he stammered.

“That’s so rare!” Fiddleford grinned. “Do ya mind if I get a good look-see at it?” Stanford blinked in astonishment. Usually when people brought up his hands, it was to make fun of them.

“Y-yeah, sure.” He held his right hand out for Fiddleford to see.

“Oh, wow, that is so cool!”

“You really think so? Most people just think it’s weird and make fun of it” Stanford gave a nervous laugh.

“No way! It’s so awesome and such a rare anomaly!”

“You know about anomalies?” He asked excitedly. Fiddleford nodded and from there it went into the two excitedly talking about science.

“Alright, alright, nerds that’s enough. It is lunch time and I’m hungry!” Stanley whined. His brother rolled his eyes with a smirk, but started towards the cafeteria anyways.

“You’re always hungry.”

“Mhhmm, whatcha gonna do?” Stan shrugged. Fiddleford couldn’t help but laugh. As he went to follow the two, he couldn’t but glance down, and honestly, Stanley didn’t have a bad ass himself. Fiddleford smirked.


End file.
